Osmond's Advice
by Mariel1
Summary: Dr. Jaming's grandson, who is also named 'Jaming', is a fourteen-year-old boy with a lot on his mind. Can Dr. Osmond help him work through his problems?


"Osmond's Advice"

_Author's Note:__ I recently read on the Dark Cloud Wiki that the Osmond in Dark Chronicle/Dark Cloud 2 is the same Osmond who joined Toan's group in Dark Cloud 1, and that Moon People were extremely long-lived due to their attachment to nature. Interesting! I had thought that he might just be a descendant with the same name, like Dr. Jaming's grandson. Speaking of which, living up to the legacy of a great inventor sounds like a daunting prospect! I really enjoyed writing this one. Dr. Osmond is such a fun character!_

Veniccio had undergone many changes over the decades that followed Dr. Jaming's arrival there. Wooden docks had been replaced with metal walkways, and what had once been a small seaside town was now a research laboratory. The Luna Stones, which had, in part, made the formation of this laboratory possible, were found to be more powerful in lower levels of illumination. Because of this, a bubble of artificial night had been created around the laboratory and the immediate surrounding area.

The rest of Veniccio, which had become a booming seaside resort, still functioned under the normal cycles of night and day. The town had migrated inland, and while access to the laboratory was restricted for the most part, tour groups and field trips were regularly led through the facility.

And, although he was a busy man even in his twilight years, Dr. Jaming himself usually led the tour. His spiky hair, once as blue as a sapphire, had long since turned white with age. He had given up his monocle in favor of a pair of thick, wire-rimmed spectacles, not because he no longer liked wearing the device, but because his eyesight was no longer what it used to be. He now walked with a cane, and frequently braced his free hand against his aching back as he stopped to explain the function of _this_ object, or the reason for _that _device. His skin, as wrinkled as it had become, was just as blue as ever.

The real difference between Dr. Jaming's older and younger selves was the level of confidence he had achieved after he had finally perfected Aeroharmonics. He was respected now, and well liked. He and Meredith, who had stuck by him all these years, were happily married. He had found his place.

"Now, if you'll follow me to the red building, I will explain its function," Dr. Jaming told the group of young teenagers after he had finished his introductory speech. His eyes strayed to a boy who stood at the very rear of the group, and he frowned.

The boy had blue skin and hair, and he appeared both bored and annoyed. His hand was in the air, and he waved it slowly back and forth to get his elderly relative's attention.

"Yes, Jaming?"

"Bathroom break?"

Dr. Jaming suppressed a sigh. His grandson had changed over the past year or two, as teenagers inevitably will. He had become sullen. Obnoxious, even. And he reminded Dr. Jaming of himself as a boy in more ways than one. He could understand young Jaming's current boredom, though. This was the boy's first field trip to the Lunatic Wisdom Laboratory, but he had practically grown up in these surroundings, and he knew the place inside and out. In fact, five minutes earlier, his grandfather had caught him mouthing the words of his speech as he said them, but he hadn't called attention to it.

The boy most likely didn't have to go to the bathroom. He probably just didn't want to _be _there. Dr. Jaming nodded. "Very well. Does anyone else need to visit the facilities before we continue?"

"No, sir," another boy piped up after his classmates had shaken their heads and young Jaming had turned to leave. "but can we just skip the tour and play with the neo projector?"

"No," Dr. Jaming said as he calmly resumed walking. "we cannot. Your teacher is expecting all of you to write an essay, and you will do poorly if you don't see what you came here to see. Now, if you'll come with me."

"He _won't_ come back, you know," the boy grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Dr. Jaming turned back, incredulous.

"Your _grandson._ He'll get away with it, too."

"If that is the case," Dr. Jaming replied, a trifle coldly, unaware that his grandson had stopped to listen just out of sight from the group, "he will face the same consequences that any of you would. Now, I have taken time out of my busy day to show you what you could someday be a part of. Whether or not you take advantage of this opportunity is entirely up to you. Now...follow me."

There was no mistaking that tone. The student immediately shut up, and his classmates looked at the floor as if they themselves had been reprimanded. This was the voice of _authority,_ the voice of one who _would_ treat all of them fairly, even if it included putting them in their places if they misbehaved. It was a voice that commanded respect.

Young Jaming snorted and turned away, heading not to the bathroom, but to one of the metal balcony-like structures that sat above and in between the color-coded buildings. He shut his eyes as the warm, salty breeze blew through the blue spikes of his hair, and he gripped the metal railing so tightly that his knuckles turned a lighter shade of blue. His elderly namesake was respected, and he himself was a joke! "Why am I even _here?_"

"Why _are_ you here?"

The voice came from the level of his elbow, and he nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face the one who had spoken. "D...Dr. Osmond! Wha..."

The Moon Person who stood before him was entirely clothed from head to toe; not a single part of his body was visible. Jaming Junior, or 'Little Jay', as he was sometimes called, had known Osmond from day one, and he _still_ had no idea what the guy looked like.

"You're supposed to be here on a class field trip, aren't you? Unless I got my days mixed up. What with this lab having no distinction between night and day, that happens more often than I'd like to admit!" There was a smile in Osmond's voice as he looked up at the sullen fourteen-year-old.

"I'm _supposed _to be. I...had to go to the bathroom." Jaming mumbled.

"We _do_ have facilities for that, you know," Osmond pointed out. "They're over-"

"I _know_ where the bathroom is!" Jaming snapped, leaning his forearms on the railing and allowing his posture to sag. "The truth is..."

Osmond waited patiently for him to continue, turning to look out over the artificially-darkened ocean, which gleamed here and there from the Luna Stone shards that lay at the bottom. Teenage angst. He had seen it all before!

"I don't know why I'm on this field trip. I've been here hundreds of times before. _Now_ I'm here with everyone else, and they all think I'm getting treated better than they are as it is. Just because my grandfather is this great man, and I look just _like_ him. But..." The words spilled out like they had been waiting for a long time to be said, now that there was someone who could listen to them without taking them personally.

"I can see how it would look that way from _their_ point of view," Osmond nodded.

"But that's just it!" Jaming threw up his hands. "I'm _not _treated any better than they are! Not even when I _could_ be. It's like my family makes a point of punishing me, just to _prove_ that they're not!"

"When they punish you, I don't suppose you've earned it?" Osmond asked him. One could almost hear from his tone that he had raised an eyebrow.

"Uhh..." The boy realized how silly he sounded, and he snickered. "Yes...I guess I did. I don't know..."

Osmond chuckled and folded his arms as he leaned against the railing. "It doesn't seem as if you want or expect preferential treatment. It seems to me like you're frustrated, because you sometimes get accused of receiving it, even when you don't. That's not fair, is it?"

"No!" Jaming shook his head.

"And who said life was fair?" Osmond posed the question, and let it hang in the air between them.

The boy sighed and looked down. "You know what's _really_ unfair, Dr. Osmond?"

"The price of scrap metal these days?"

"Heh, no...well, yes, that too." They both laughed at that, and the real reason for his lousy mood occurred to him. Everything else was sort of tied to it, but the main reason was a big one. "If I tell you something...will you promise not to tell anyone else? Especially not my grandfather?"

Osmond turned serious now. "That depends on what you want to tell me. If you're planning to harm yourself or someone else, I'll _have _to speak up."

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Okay, then. You have my word that whatever you say won't go beyond us." Osmond told him.

The boy swallowed hard. "I look...almost exactly like my grandfather did when he was young. I like to build things. I'm even starting to _sound_ like him, now that my voice broke. People expect me to be just like him. They tell me I'm just _copying_ him when I do something he'd do, and then they tell me that I'm being pretentious when I _don't _do something he'd do. Grandfather said that he used to get laughed at for being physically _different_. Now _I _get teased for being _similar to him,_ and I get accused of trying to act like something I'm not when I'm just being _myself!_"

Jaming brought his fist down on the railing, then held it in his other hand when it began to sting. "Ouch..."

"That wasn't very smart," observed the Moon Person in a dry voice.

"No kidding..." Jaming gritted his teeth, then went back to what he was trying to say. "Grandfather did so many great things. Aeroharmonics! It's changed the world so much, and now look at him! Just _look!_ Everyone respects him now. They look to me and wonder what _I'll _accomplish. But I don't _know!_ Look at the legacy I have to live_ up_ to! How can I ever hope to fill _those _shoes?"

"First of all, self-pity won't get you anywhere. Although, from what I remember of your grandfather from all those years ago, you're more like him than you think. And yet, you're a separate person. Do you know why you should never buy shoes second-hand?" Osmond's question seemed out of place, and the boy looked confused.

"What? No, I don't..." Jaming blinked a few times as he tried to wrap his mind around Osmond's scattered logic. "What does that have to do with me?"

"The funny thing about shoes is, they mold themselves to the owner's feet," Osmond explained. "A pair of size tens will still fit the feet of anyone who wears a size ten, but if they belonged to someone else first they won't be a _perfect _fit. You see, the toe and heel impressions left behind by the original owner of the shoes won't match up perfectly with anyone else's feet. You could walk around in them, but the fit just won't be _right._ You'll be uncomfortable. It's a _metaphor, _kid. Did you spot it?"

"I...I think so," Jaming mumbled. "Then...I can never hope to fill my grandfather's shoes because..."

"Don't you start frowning," Osmond shook his head. "This isn't a _bad _thing. Being _similar_ to someone else isn't bad, as long as you're still true to yourself. You _will_ find your place one day. You'll realize that even though the opinions of others might _matter, _ they only matter to a certain point. Your grandfather is your grandfather. He led to you, but you are _yourself._ And, one day, you'll have find your _own _pair of shoes. Or, if you want me to drop the metaphor and speak literally, you need to live _your _life, not your grandfather's. The opinions of others are secondary to that."

Jaming smiled sadly, and looked away so that Osmond wouldn't see that his eyes were getting teary. "But...I _still_ want to be someone he can be proud of."

"Oh, well then, mission accomplished," Osmond shrugged. "He already _is_ proud of you. You should hear him go _on_ about you. It's hard to get him to shut up. Anyway...hey...where are you going?"

The boy called over his shoulder as he walked down the ramp. "There's a field trip I'm missing out on."

"Excellent!" Osmond's voice was smiling again. "And if your grandfather asks what took you so long, just go ahead and tell him that Dr. Osmond detained you."

"And if he wants specifics?"

The Moon Person, so old and yet so youthful, laughed knowingly. "Just tell him I had a joke for you. He'll cut you off right there and say 'never mind'!"


End file.
